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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23015062">Worth My Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariana_oconnor/pseuds/mariana_oconnor'>mariana_oconnor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr fic [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Human Disaster Clint Barton, M/M, Sex worker Clint Barton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2018-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2018-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:21:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>773</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23015062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariana_oconnor/pseuds/mariana_oconnor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint's broke and looking for an easy win, but he wasn't exactly expecting the evening to turn out like this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr fic [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/952233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Worth My Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So, his interview went to shit, the dog-walking’s keeping rent covered, but Clint’s down to his last few tins of food, and he really needs a fucking drink.</p><p>A drink he can’t afford.</p><p>Lucky’s with Kate, and Clint’s out because there’s only so long he can stare at the walls of his lousy apartment that costs way too much to rent before he actually goes mad. He’s at a bar, looking for someone who might buy him a drink. It’s not the first time, and if he pitches it right, he can get through an entire night without needing a penny.</p><p>Of course, when he doesn’t pitch it right, he ends up beat up and washing dishes in the back. There are a couple of bars down the block where he’s not allowed anymore - photo on the wall and everything. Turns out they like it when you pay for your drinks. Who knew? But it’s near to closing time and Clint’s willing to try his luck.</p><p>There’s a guy at the bar whose eyes have darted his way a couple of times: pretty, broody. If Clint’s apartment didn’t smell of damp and desperation he’d be thinking about taking him back there, but he’ll settle for a drink. It’s been a long week. God knows he needs something nice to look at.</p><p>“Hey,” he says, sauntering up to the guy, who glances up out of the corner of his eye, sly through pretty eyelashes.</p><p>The eyelashes aren’t the only thing that’s pretty. This guy is out of Clint’s league. Clint should be buying him drinks. He’s built like an action star with a face like a model. Abort. Abort. Clint’s about to apologise and claim he mistook the guy for someone else when the guy opens his mouth.</p><p>“Hey,” Eyelashes says, his lips curling in what wouldn’t pass for a smile on a passport photo, but Clint thinks maybe it is for him. For all his pretty, his face seems built to scowl. Clint really wants to make his day better. “Can I get you a drink?” Eyelashes asks.</p><p>Well… that was easy.</p><p>Turns out everything’s easy tonight. Pretty guy’s called Bucky, apparently, buys him two drinks in a row. Maybe he’s noticed that the rips in Clint’s jeans aren’t exactly there for style, or that the t-shirt is tight because it’s old and too small, rather than a deliberate fashion choice (although the choice was deliberate: Clint’s success rate at getting free stuff is way higher when he’s wearing his lucky purple shirt). Clint doesn’t mind so much, he’s not too proud right now, his past has taught him to never turn your nose up at a free drink, and it seems like maybe this evening’s turning out to be a bit better than the rest of his week has been.</p><p>Bucky’s funny as well as pretty, with a sense of humour that sneaks up on you and stabs you in the gut when you least expect it. When Clint finally notices that he’s down one arm, Bucky tells him – with a completely straight face – that he lost it in a poker game. Clint’s momentary gaping fish expression earns him another smile.</p><p>Bucky’s smiles are just as stealthy and startling as his sense of humour, lighting up his eyes that little bit, making crows-feet crinkle at the edges of them, and Clint’s feeling a little like a dick for aiming to stiff this guy out of some money. But his clothes are good quality, and he hasn’t complained about Clint not paying his way. In fact, Clint’s pretty sure they’re flirting with each other.</p><p>Well, Bucky’s flirting, Clint’s making unsubtle innuendoes about shot glasses, but that’s what counts as flirting for him.</p><p>Then the night’s pushing to a close, last orders is called and Bucky tilts his head, raises an eyebrow.</p><p>“How much for the evening?” Bucky asks and the only reason Clint doesn’t choke on the drink he’s swigging down is because he doesn’t work out what Bucky’s asking until he’s already swallowed it.</p><p>He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his head spinning wildly. He opens his mouth to ask what the hell is going on, but then he’s reminded of the fact that he’s got no food in his apartment, a dog who eats like a horse, and his only job is playing with rich people’s dogs in the park (it’s an awesome job, but the pay is shit).</p><p>So when he opens his mouth to say ‘what?’ what actually comes out is “that depends on what you’re after.”</p><p>And that’s how Clint becomes a sex worker.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Originally posted on Tumblr: https://mariana-oconnor.tumblr.com/post/173137596740/fic-i-will-never-finish (Thanks to 1000-directions for finding it for me. :))</p><p>I'm not intending to continue this fic at this time, it was written to get the idea out of my head.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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